Alice grinned and whipped up the i-thingy on me so I could stare into my wife’s lovely, but tiny face. Unfortunately, her voice was not tiny.
“Hi hon. Gotta go.”
“Don’t you move, DL!” The tiny picture amplified a lot of emotion in such a small spot.
Luckily, my partner Tommy showed up, pissed off at the world. He waved at the i-thingy screen. “Hey, Lor, we have to go. Save the lectures for later.”
“Oh no… no… no… no… you did not just blow me off, T,” the i-thingy voice shouted at him. “I will-”
Tommy jerked forward and covered the i-thingy with one very big dark hand. He smiled at Alice. “Take Mommy home. We’ll see you there, Al.”
“Okay, Uncle Tommy… be careful. Bye, John.” Alice retreated into the backseat with the still squeaking i-thingy, and Jafar took off with a wave.
Tommy gives me a shove toward his GMC. “I swear, John! The moment you hear Lora’s voice, it’s like your balls disappear. Get in the car, and let’s get this shit over with.”
“You still mad at me?” I’m enjoying all this. Tommy knows it, and it makes him an extra shade of pissed off. He gets in the driver’s side and slams his door. I’m already in and buckled up so he takes off.
“If Dev and Jesse weren’t on an escort gig tonight, we wouldn’t be together, you rock headed, punk ass, white bread, Darth Vader mime! At least have the damn decency to stop grinnin’ like a Halloween pumpkin!”
I immediately assume my usual demeanor of an underfed bridge troll, frowning and nodding. “You’re right, T! The moment I break Gronk’s neck, we’ll go back to the house and kill everyone, including Al’s goldfish, Gilda!”
Tommy could only hold his grim pose for a moment before losing it. He brayed with enthusiasm, shaking his head, pissed off at himself he couldn’t hold the line. “Okay, you got me with that one. John… I thought I was whipped. You, brother, have taken whipped to the undiscovered territory.”
“Never presume to know another man’s marriage, T. Lora runs our enterprises like she was born to it. You’ve seen her handle our crew, while threading them into Denny’s extracurricular government business. She doesn’t ask questions. The business is humming. If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it. Besides, I love the sound of her voice – good mood, bad mood, happy, pissed off… it’s all good.”
Tommy shrugged. “Fine, you pussy whipped sap. Now… back to business. Why in the hell do you have to mix it up with Dixon?”
I’m serious now. I don’t like Dixon. I have two guys working for me, who are just like family: Devon Constantine and Jesse Brown. They claim I ended their careers, but actually although I did beat them, I came up with a way they could make more money than they ever dreamed of. Fightin’ them was just business. Dixon was different. “He said something I have to answer in the cage.”
My partner did a double take at that answer. “Care to share? I might not be so pissed off if I knew what the hell risking a UFC shot for some pug is all about. Dixon only shoots his mouth off because if he takes you out, he might get a UFC shot in your place. I didn’t know you were gettin’ so sensitive. Maybe we need to have your hormone levels checked, sissy.”
We both ended up laughing our butts off, me at his barb, and him at me laughing over it. Tommy has a right to know, so I explain. “Alexi asked me if I’d meet him for a drink at The Warehouse. He said he had a proposition for me. You know I need to keep him happy, because the old mobster keeps my other masters up to date with any info he gleans from his overseas contacts. Besides, he keeps his word, and he hasn’t lied to me. Anyway, I get to the bar, and our good buddy Fiialkov’s sitting with that damn polar bear, Dixon.”
“Big surprise there,” Tommy clucked. “You knew if you refused to fight under his banner, he’d hunt down someone to be his favorite. That albino, Dixon, gives me the creeps. He’d be easier to look at if the sucker didn’t have those damn black colored pupils. I still think he has special contacts.”
I shook my head. “We’ve seen him fight. He ain’t wearin’ contacts. Alexi waves me over, and introduces me. I stick out my paw, and Dixon just grunts. I smile and sit down, nice as you please. Alexi wants me to sign on for a fight with Dixon, using the cage and seating setup the Syrians paid for. He plans on beaming it via Al Jazeera’s network for a pay-per-view event in Europe.”
Tommy gets to the Laurel Lounge and parks around the corner from the entrance. “I have eyes on Gronk inside. Eric was having a brew when Gronk walked in with a buddy. They went back to play darts, and Eric called me. That was only half an hour ago.”
Tommy pulls out his own i-thingy and texts Eric Tamil. Tamil is one of our informants around town. After a few heated keyboard exchanges, Tommy looks at me with a smile.
“Gronk’s getting crocked.”
“Excellent, Tommy.” I’d hoped to avoid a lot of crap with the apprehension. Avery Gronk was not someone anyone in their right mind would mess with. He needed killin’, but my cover life would surely suffer unless I handled his demise perfectly. I’m not a perfect guy. “You want the bear spray or the needles?”
Tommy held out his hand. “Give me the spray. I don’t want to be anywhere near Gronk.”
I handed Tommy the bear spray. Our plan is to blind him, and zap him until he quits moving. We don’t fool around with guys like Gronk. The prick’s over six and a half feet tall and weighs over three hundred pounds. We’ve been trying to locate him for a month. We got the ticket from a bond agency in New Jersey. Gronk fled on a drug distribution charge just before they found out he was responsible for two dead bodies with his DNA all over them. We were into the Gronk expense sheet for a couple grand, because Casey and I went down to LA on a tip he’d been seen. If that tip would have panned out, Gronk would be dead, and his body shipped back East. Since he’s on our home turf and I have Tommy with me, Gronk has to go down in the traditional manner.
“So tell me what Dixon said.”
I wanted to keep my mind on Gronk. Crap! “When I told Alexi I couldn’t take the match that close to the UFC fight, he said he understood. I got up to go and Dixon decided to punk me. He said he really loved watching Alice. Fiialkov read the tea leaves and leaped up from the table making surrender gestures, explaining Dixon many times had picked up his granddaughter from school. As you know, Alice and Fiialkov’s granddaughter had been in the same class. That didn’t cut it with me. Dixon was smiling. I told Alexi to set it up.”
Tommy exits the car and I follow. We take up positions at the front of his car, ready to move around the corner to the entrance if Gronk leaves. I stay standing while Tommy sits on his hood. “That stupid son of a bitch wants that UFC shot bad. You do know another killing in the cage after snuffing Rankin in Dubai will end your UFC career once again, don’t you dummy? So okay, Dark Lord, what besides bait, which you chomped on, you big guppie, did you think was happening when Dixon mentioned Alice? Even if you got killed did you think your crew would let something happen to Alice or Lora? Hell, your two ‘Pulp Fiction’ characters, Lucas and Casey would have Dixon out on the yacht with cement shoes in a heartbeat.”
Apparently my partner of some years thinks I’m made of stone. “Granted, that wasn’t about business, T. Alexi knew Dixon screwed up. Dixon probably thought it was the only maneuver that would get him a shot at me, and he’s probably right. Well, okay Dixon, you two bit, albino fuck, you have the Dark Lord’s attention. Tonight we play out the Dixon string, T. I know damn well all of you have my back. Come hell or high water, I’m gettin’ a piece. If it screws up the UFC shot, too fuckin’ bad.”
Tommy nodded. “I feel you, John. I’ll be there, but it’s nice to have an outline.”
“You never used to be this touchy feely, brother,” I counter. “Maybe you need to put away the evening gown and high heels and get your head back in the game… pussy.”
I smile as Tommy is howling his head off, just before he gets a text beep. “Eric says Gronk is coming right at him, and he doesn’t look like h
e… aw hell… he’s grabbing him!”
We run around to the entrance to face off with Gronk. I may be a psycho, but I know Tommy isn’t, and I like Eric. I’m not letting that ass-hole maim the guy. “Back up out of sight, T. Come out if something happens you can help with.”
“Damn it! Sorry, John, I thought we had an easy one, but Eric’s been made by someone inside. Got a plan?”
“Yeah, but best we not rake it over the coals. I’ll get Eric out alive, but I don’t like our chances of him informing for us in the future.”
Tommy shrugged. “Eric plays us, but I don’t want to see him dead. If you can keep him un-dead, then I’m all for it. Shit happens though. I’ll be around the corner.”
Gronk exits the Laurel with Eric in a headlock. Gronk’s arm’s so big, I can barely see Eric’s flushed face. His other hand has a knife held under Eric’s ribcage on the side. “Get the fuck back, Harding! You ain’t taking me in!”
Two things I notice. His partner didn’t come out with him, and two, he held the knife too far away from our informer’s side. I don’t bother starting a dialogue. The Taser needles hit Eric in the middle of his chest. Gronk gets jolted back as I crank up the collapsing Eric. Dropping the Taser, I launch a flying knee right into the still stunned Gronk’s solar plexus. It’s a money shot. The knife clatters to the sidewalk. Gronk folds heavily after it, trying unsuccessfully for many moments to suck air. Tommy comes around the corner with his bear spray can up and ready.
“You… you Tased me, bro!” Eric’s rolling around.
“Watch out for the partner, T, while I handcuff Gronk.”
I rolled the barely breathing Gronk over on his stomach. He didn’t like it, but there wasn’t a hell of a lot he could do about it. I cuffed him. Not wanting him to do anything goofy with his feet, I plastic tied his ankles together. Grabbing up Eric off the sidewalk, I dust him off while he’s yapping away.
“How come his partner didn’t come out, Eric?”
Eric’s still vibrating slightly with his eyelids twitching, but he looks over at the door as if he knew what I was talking about. “I… I don’t know, John. When I got grabbed, I didn’t see anything else.”
I sighed, patting Eric’s shoulder. “About how many people are in there?”
“Just a few at the bar. I think the guy next to me tipped off Gronk. He walked back with them, and the next thing I know, Gronk’s yanking me the hell off my stool.”
I nod as I notice Tommy’s already calling inside. Tommy ends the call.
“Red says the guy’s sitting at the bar, watching the door.”
“Stay here with Tommy,” I tell Eric. “I’ll bring him out, along with the guy who tipped them off about you.”
“John! What the hell? We got Gronk. Let’s call it a day.”
I try reasoning first. “Look, T, for all we know, his partner’s a stone killer. I ain’t leavin’ until I know both the partner and his snitch. Eric, what does the snitch have on I can ID him with?”
“Ah… oh yeah… ah… he has a red 49er’s jersey on.”
That’ll work. “How about Gronk’s buddy?”
Eric’s face blanks out momentarily, and his upper lip’s still twitching from the Taser charge. He brightens up finally and looks at me like all the gears in his head are working. “He’s got a gold ring in his right ear, John.”
“Well all right. That’s another hundred if you got those two right.”
“Really?” Eric brightens noticeably. “Hell, John, I’d have walked back in and ID’d them for you for an extra hundred.”
I chuckle. Eric’s okay. “Nope. Me and Tommy want you to keep supplying us with info we need. Can you hang around out here for a few moments while I gather up Gronk’s associates?”
Eric nods energetically. “Sure, John.”
“Let me get the riot gun,” Tommy urges, stepping in front of me as I began entering the bar. “What the hell’s gotten into you lately?”
“I don’t want the lounge lit up over my curiosity, T. I’ll be careful.”
“You step into that damn bar, and I’m rattin’ you out to Lora.”
Tommy smiles at my look of complete shock. Shit! I can tell there are going to be adjustments in the future. When Tommy starts second guessing my on scene actions, it means I’ve been kicked to the curb on procedural matters. That ain’t happenin’. I don’t bother trading insults with my formerly trustworthy partner. I walk inside the Laurel Lounge and wave at Red behind the bar. 49er’s jersey is seated right next to the door, staring down at his beer. I grab him up off his stool and off the floor, holding him in front of me. I spot gold earring at the end of the bar with a distinct look of unhappiness on his face. I point at him while I manhandle Mr. 49er.
“Come along outside, Sir, while we get things sorted out. No one needs to get hurt. Do you have a weapon?”
Gronk’s partner shakes his head no. My holding Mr. 49er a few inches off the barroom floor with very little effort has impressed him. “I don’t want any trouble.”
“That’s good. I don’t either.” I gesture for him to come along. “C’mon outside with me and we’ll sort this out. Gronk’s already in custody, so it will all be peaceful. Put your hands up and grip the back of your head. Then walk outside in front of me. Are we clear?”
Gold ring nods and clasps his hands behind his head. He walks out in front of me while I stop to quickly plastic tie 49er’s hands behind his back under protest. Outside, Gronk’s sitting up against the building wall, still looking like he took a knee in the solar plexus. In other words about all he’s doing is gasping white-faced while staring at his shoes. I give over Mr. 49er to Tommy. I gesture at gold ring.
“I’m going to frisk you, Sir, so we can all be friends.” Gold ring nods and I move behind him. He’s not packing so I move over and do the 49er. Our football fan’s packing a Glock 9mm in one of those shirt type holster setups. I relieve him of it. Tommy takes it from me while I turn back to gold ring. “Show me some ID, and we’ll get you on your way.”
He hands me his wallet, and puts his hands back up on his head without my asking. We’re not drawing a crowd which is good, but I need to hurry this up. He has a California driver’s license, and he matches the picture on it. His name’s Charles Stopic, and he lives over on Arkansas Street. Tommy hands me the 49er’s wallet. He’s local too.
“Call Earl, T. Maybe he’ll feel like doing us a solid since we’re taking Gronk off the street.” Earl’s one of our contacts on the Oakland Police Force. Tommy hands me his i-thingy with a grin after making contact with Earl. I barely get out a hello.
“John! What the hell? You’re fightin’ tonight, and decided to plague Gronk for what… a warm up? You are one sick-”
“Earl!” I need to interrupt him because he’s even boring me. “Gronk will be off Oakland streets. As the arguable murder capital of the USA, I figured you’d be more grateful. Can you run two names for me… please?”
Silence for a moment on the other side. “Okay… give ‘em to me.”
“Charles Stopic and Grant Parsons.”
A gasp on the other side of the line did not bode well.
“Parsons?” Earl’s voice lowered. “I can be there in ten minutes. Can you stay put?”
“Sure.” This is getting good. I might have a few more brownie points to gather for future favors. “How dangerous?”
Earl states it with slow passion. “If you do not have him restrained, do it now or kill him. I don’t care which. Do it now!”
I turn away and get out of hearing range. “Whoa there, brother. I plastic tied him, and Tommy has him. What’s up?”
“He’s wanted for the rape/murder of a fifteen year old girl. He’s also killed two cops.”
Well, okay then. “Wait one.”
I walk over to 49er, and clock him. I’m no stranger to knockouts. Although Grant was restrained, I’m not the police. Yeah, thinking of a fifteen year old girl and two cops dead at his hands possibly made me a little mental. I ain�
��t a psycho when it comes to right and wrong. Tommy steps back. He’s seen the look, and he knows this part ain’t his gig. I walk back over to a very shaken Stopic.
“Do you know the guy on the sidewalk? Think carefully before you answer, Chuck.”
“He… he walked over and told us Gronk was made. Look, I went to school with Gronk. He and I have been friends since 6th grade. When he called me today to meet him for a drink, I said sure. I know it must seem-”
I waved him off. “This will take a little longer than I thought, Chuck. Thanks to Grant’s extracurricular activities here, I’m afraid we’ll need a little more of a clearance than the local PD for you.” I used Tommy’s i-thingy to send Denny Strobert a picture of Chuck, and the names, with a text for a rush. It wasn’t long before I got a smartass greeting, and a confirmation on Grant, along with an all clear on Chucky.
“Okay, Chuck, you can take off. Stay out of trouble.”
Chuck lowered his hands slowly, while glancing down at Gronk, who was still nowhere near his old self. “I…I’ll just go then. Will Gronk… ah… never mind. Goodbye, Mr. Harding.”
“So long, Chuck.” I watched Chucky start out walking, but he was jogging within a few seconds. I walked over to Tommy. “This scumbag at your feet raped and killed a fifteen year old girl, and killed two cops. He’s the hat trick, T. Earl will be…” I heard sirens. “Earl will be here shortly.”
Tommy gestured at Gronk. “He must have been figuring on partnering up with Parsons. I’ll bet he was setting his old buddy Stopic up for a squat.”
“Yep. Have a few drinks. Go back to Stopic’s place with Stopic in the trunk, and lay low for a few months until they can make their way south of the border. I bet these two have done some time together. Take off, Eric. Give him five, T. He deserves a bonus.”
Tommy counted out the money to Eric, who left in a hurry. He didn’t need any face time with the PD. It was only a couple minutes before Earl Taylor and his partner, Enrique Rodriguez, arrived with half a dozen squad cars. I figure it was probably orders, because Earl and ‘Rique know me well enough if I have a guy, he’ll be there waiting. Earl jumps out of his squad car first and rushes over to flip Parsons over. He nods at ‘Rique. Earl stands up.
Hard Case: Boxed Set Books 1,2 & 3 (John Harding Books) Page 32